


The Hunter's Gamble

by LigeiaMaloy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Blood, Fluff and Smut, Knotting, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 03:28:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9302213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LigeiaMaloy/pseuds/LigeiaMaloy
Summary: Hanzo Shimada is one of few hunters who dares to enter the forsaken forest. Beasts closer to the spirit realm than our world are said to dwell here and only the bravest dare to face them and most of them still lose their lives. Hanzo might have a deathwish but not only for himself. Otherwise, he wouldn't have agreed to play a little game, offering a most unorthodox prize.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pocketnoodl (Pocketnoodl)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pocketnoodl/gifts).



> A late birthday gift for [Pocketnoodl](pocketnoodl.tumblr.com) who is the sweetest pervy friend with the patience of a saint! 
> 
> Unfortunately, I'm neither an expert for this ship nor kink but I hope it's a little entertaining anyway :)
> 
> Also on [Tumblr](http://ecstasy-of-overwatch.tumblr.com/post/155784304919/the-hunters-gamble-mchanzo-nsfw)

“Shimada-Sama! Shimada-Sa-” The last syllable drowned in a gargle of blood, an ugly sound interrupting the eerie peace of the forest. Thin trees with the strength of centuries wore wide branches, knitting a thick roof to forbid the setting sun to trespass from its realm of the sky. The few rays smuggling past painted the secluded world in purple shades that were beginning to fade to gray. This kingdom didn’t belong to humans and having one of them scream the name of another was an atrocious sacrilege against the order of nature itself and the spirits above and in between.

Hanzo Shimada didn’t fear the blade of another human or the teeth of a worldly beast but he was wise enough to remain silent. He pulled his hood deep over his face. He had earned the protection of this garment, the skin and fur of a white wolf, in a battle that could only end with one life and one death. Wearing the hide, he had taken a life and replaced it with his presence, an act the forest accepted and therefore tolerated him, as long as he didn’t overstay his visit.

Thus he hadn’t spoken as he and his companion left the secure path of the land and walked deeper into the thicket of the cursed woods, and he didn’t speak now.

He turned around as something rustled through the bushes, pulling the string of his bow, aiming it where the leaves were beginning to shake.

Between the regal thorns of the shrubs and dainty ferns, the beast emerged.

Tall as a bull and strong as five, the wolf was one of the lords of the forests. Its coat was shaggy and splendid like a polished chestnut lying by a fire. Large eyes between yellow and amber were glowing with the wisdom of age and the awareness of the beast’s own power. Its paws had cracked skulls, indifferent whether of animals or mankind. Yet, they walked slowly, with the elegant silence of a predator. Its path led down destruction if it chose so and by the time noise followed its presence, it was too late for its prey.

It was holding the body of a man between its mighty jaws, the teeth piercing through the tender flesh. Bones, being silly and obstinate things, tried to withstand but shattered under the sheer force. Soaked with the human’s blood, the beast’s snout turned almost black, giving the creature a youth, and a wicked look.

The tip of Hanzo’s arrow pointed at the massive forehead. Man and beast stood still. Rabbits pretended they had found safety far away from the small clearing, birds of the day exchanged songs with birds of the night, telling exciting news disguised as warnings. Only air hissing from punctured lungs disrupted the illusion of silence between Hanzo and the wolf.

Hanzo stared at the twitching hand of the dying man. Blood dripped from his mouth as he turned his head, eyes more dull than aware as they focused on him.

The ugly noise escaping from the drowning throat was void of words, a desperate plea for help. Hanzo lowered his bow and nodded.

The man’s spine snapped.

The wolf spat the corpse out at Hanzo’s feet, its growl echoing between the trees like ancient laughter as Hanzo turned around and walked away.

*

Among slender trees and comfortably chubby shrubs, the hut was a sore created by human hands. It didn’t belong and although it was hidden too deeply into the forest for any human to find it within one day, plants and moss had done their best to hide this shame under a green carpet. The wood it was made of grew up in this forest and never left it after it had been cut down and like the forest itself, it refused destruction, be it through human hands or its own home.

A giant brown wolf guarded the door. Its mouth half open, he greeted Hanzo with a wolfish grin but the human took no notice. Head low, face half hidden under the gray wolf hide, Hanzo walked around him and went inside, leaving the door open.

The air seemed to move, a warm yet fresh breeze that shouldn’t be here and was gone before the shudder reached the end of Hanzo’s spine. Slow taps of four paws dwindled down to the steps of bare feet.

“What do you want, Jesse?” He put his bow and arrow on the table. With a sigh, he turned around to face the intruder.

“My prize. You know I won today.” The growls needed a moment to grow into words, rolling in the back of a throat who hadn’t formed the language of humans for too long.

Hanzo calmly observed the rough face. The man, Jesse, was only a few inches taller than him but the power of the beast his soul contained still surrounded him. His eyes sparkled with amusement and the smile revealed white teeth but no danger. His hair was brown and shaggy, most of the fur was gone, except the few patches covering the slightly pointed ears and the wide backs of his hands. The beard covering chin and cheeks was that of a human and what Hanzo found as his gaze wandered down the bronze body was very much the excitement of a man.

“Claim it, then.” Hanzo’s voice quivered with less dignity than he’d have liked to show in the presence of this creature.

As though Jesse had just waited for Hanzo to admit his debt, the man launched forwards. He grabbed Hanzo’s pitch black hair before the wolf’s hide had slid to the ground. Rough lips met as another game began.

Hanzo moved his head away but the firm grip held him in place. He clenched his teeth but strong fingers grabbed him by his jaw, the pressure opening them. Jesse licked over Hanzo’s lips, biting them too gently to draw blood and let his tongue slip inside. Hanzo’s hands clenched the edge of the table behind him, shivering when his shirt was ripped open and pulled over his shoulder. Sharp, claw-like nails scratched over his arms, leaving long, red marks.

His mind was filling with the scent of animal and man, the delighted growls seemed to come from far away but the hand moving down his stomach was close and real.

“Now, what do we have here?” Jesse’s wandered over Hanzo’s throat, his warm breath brushing over the skin. “You expected me, yet you act coy? You are a silly man, Hanzo Shimada.” He pressed his body close against Hanzo’s, his hand reaching behind him, picking up the small pot of grease standing on the table.

“One could think you expected my arrival tonight, human.”

“Why don’t you just take what you want and leave me be when you’re done?”

“Why don’t you just admit you want me exactly where I am?” Jesse let go of the grease for now. He didn’t waste time unbuttoning Hanzo’s pants. He slid a finger behind the waistband and ripped it open. Going down on his knees, he pushed down the pants and underwear.

“You want me here, to be precise, don’t you?” He mocked, greeting Hanzo’s hard cock with a flicker of his tongue.

“No honorable man desires the touch of a beast!” His knuckles were turning white from clinging to the table. He bit his lip, tossing his head abruptly to shake off the groan crawling up his throat.

“Your scent tells a different story.” Jesse laughed, burying his face in Hanzo’s crotch, his beard brushing against Hanzo’s cock, covering it with teasing tingles. “Mmh, you cannot mistake the delicious scent of arousal for anything else.” He took a long, slow lick along the smooth shaft. Hanzo’s hand flew over his mouth, subduing a moan when his cock disappeared into Jesse’s mouth. He glanced down, saw the piercing amber eyes looking up at him. Nothing could escape this gaze, not the blush on Hanzo’s cheeks, not the faintest twitch of the finest muscles in his face.

Hanzo leaned back his head, closing his eyes and forcing his breath to calm down. Honor. Who was he to speak of honor? He had lost that privilege so many years ago and when he had thought he had found a new source of punishment for his since lust embraced him instead of pain. Yet, he had returned to the forest. Yet, he hadn’t pierced the beast’s skull when he had the chance. Even now, his hands refused to snatch the arrow lying behind him and ram it through the soft throat of the beast’s human form.

Instead, his hand reached down. His fingers were digging into the ragged hair. Always it would surprise him, how silken it was. Only the fur of his ears was softer to the touch. But Hanzo’s thought didn’t linger for long. Too well did Jesse know how to work his cock with his mouth and tongue. His teeth were a little too sharp for a normal human but he used them gently, with just enough pressure to tickle any fears before smothering them with another lick.

“Please stop,” Hanzo said but his voice begged him to go on. Jesse listened, maybe to tease him, maybe because he sensed the urgency in Hanzo’s plea. Jesse glared down at him, his face overshadowed by growing passion. He caressed Hanzo’s cheek, stroking the black beard, waiting for the word to end this here. If Hanzo didn’t tell him now, there was no guarantee he was able to listen to reason once they took the next step.

He smiled when Hanzo withstood his glare and lowered his head for a last tender kiss, giving Hanzo a taste of himself, of the salt and arousal Jesse had been talking about before. Hanzo couldn’t deny it and he wanted more. He wanted this tall, strong body over him, he wanted to smell _him_ , his musk and passion while the heat claimed both of them.

He managed to climb out of his pants and boots before Jesse grabbed him by his ass and lifted him up, without breaking the kiss. Hanzo was clinging to him, tasting his lips, feeling the warmth of Jesse’s body, as marvelous as it was that a creature of the darkest forest could store the heat of the sun in his skin.

Seconds later, he was lying on his back, on the narrow bed that wasn’t much more than a square, straw-filled bag in a wooden box. Jesse was over him, between his legs, pushing them apart. Hanzo’s face was burning under the unveiled gaze that seemed to take in every inch of his skin, from his face to his swollen cock, and a little deeper.

Fingers, warm and slick with grease, prodded towards his hole. Hanzo covered his face with his hands, moaning into his palms as he felt himself loosen under the gentle but insistent pressure. Trembling when a first finger slipped inside, he tried to close his legs but Jesse kept them spread. A second finger followed, moving against the constricting walls and that Hanzo was and ever had been seemed to be reduced to his hole and the mixture of pain and lust vibrating through his cells.

It wasn’t a feeling he could control, nor did he have control over the growling shapeshifter whose intent was to drive him towards the edge of his mind. Hanzo refused to look at him because no matter what he could see, it wouldn’t close the distant and even though a fire was burning inside his loins, he was beginning to feel cold and exposed in all his weakness.

He inhaled sharply when the fingers left him but before he could protest against the loss, Jesse was covering him, his hairy chest wonderful and warm against Hanzo’s smooth skin. He was cradled by strong arms and kissed by a needy mouth, Jesse’s massive length pressing against his own cock. The cold was forgotten as was his talk about dignity and thoughts about pride. Hanzo threw his arms around Jesse’s neck, his short fingernails digging into his skin as he pulled him as close as possible.

Jesse freed himself from the hug, without breaking more skin contact than he could help it. Hanzo knew what was coming and gave Jesse enough room to oil his cock. His hips slid down until the head of his cock pressed against Hanzo’s hole. Hanzo looked up at the darkened face. He reached up to brush the wild strands of hair out of Jesse’s eyes, shuddering under the glowing stare he revealed. Jesse’s features had changed, slightly, but noticeable. The animal inside of him was fighting against its restraints, the lines of his jaws became sharper, and so were his teeth.

Hanzo felt the struggle, man against beast. He took Jesse’s face between his hands, forcing him to focus.

“I’m not afraid of you.” And he wasn’t. All the years he had grown up with the myths and legends of undying creatures were nothing. He had lost his trust in the words of the elders but he trusted this beast, for who had ever heard of a malevolent beast whose lips trembled in fear of hurting him when he kissed him?

And he needed the kiss, wild as it was. Despite all his want, he wasn’t ready to welcome Jesse’s cock with ease. He was still too tight and as Jesse pushed deeper, a jolt of pain shot through him. The wet kisses helped him, the gentle murmur relaxed him and the fingers feverishly running through his hair promised him he wasn’t alone.

Jesse’s full length claimed him as the last, widest inch buried inside of him. Panting, Hanzo grabbed Jesse’s hair, hungry for his mouth, Jesse’s growl vibrating against his lips. The first push hurt but the second time Jesse thrust into him, it was becoming easier. They were alone in the wilderness, shielded by the walls of the hut and a fortress of trees and without having to fear any other human being hearing him, Hanzo finally gave into the pleasure. His voice was almost as hoarse as the man-beast’s. Only the deep growls separated their groans. Both bodies shivered under the heat growing between them and sweat covered backs and temples.

“You’re the beast,” Jesse muttered, his tongue licking over the imprints of his teeth on Hanzo’s throat. They were coming to an end. Hanzo felt the cock pulsating in him, growing past a size suitable for a human man and Jesse was beginning to pull out.

“Then take me like one!” He scoffed and wrapped his legs around Jesse’s hips, forcing him to stay inside and push deeper. This time, he wouldn’t allow him to remove himself before it was over.

“Hanzo…!” With a groan, Jesse collapsed over him. He lost his human voice and underneath Hanzo’s hands, fur was growing along Jesse’s spine. Jesse hissed, arching his back against the urge to lose control. He won, he maintained his human form, most of it. Sharp claws were digging into Hanzo’s chest, blood oozing from the long scratches. He bit into Hanzo’s shoulder and couldn’t let go, his teeth cutting through the soft skin.

Inside of him, Hanzo felt the base of Jesse’s cock swelling. Even if they wanted to end it hear, they couldn’t, not until Jesse’s body would let him. The knot was hard and didn’t seem to ever stop growing against Hanzo’s walls. It was becoming too much. There was pain, but with sweat burning in the wounds on his chest and shoulders, it was only a shadow of what it should have been. It was the pressure, it threatened to tear him apart, it was more than a human body could take…

“Breathe! Hanzo, breathe! It’s okay.” Jesse was lying on top of him, his head leaning against Hanzo’s. His trembling fingers were running through Hanzo’s hair. His voice was hardly human but it was deep, full and vibrating and indeed, Hanzo breathed. He inhaled deeply with his eyes closed, wincing at the metallic taste of his own blood when Jesse gave him another sloppy kiss.

And so, he calmed down. The sharp pain he had feared was becoming an everlasting part of him was slowly fading into a warm and pleasant burn. As he relaxed, Jesse dared to move, without haste, in a gentle rhythm that stretched Hanzo further than he had ever believed it to be possible. Jesse reached between them, taking hold of Hanzo’s cock and stroking it. His grip was a little too hard but Hanzo welcomed the rough treatment. It was good, so good, but didn’t threaten to push him over the edge too soon.

It didn’t take long before the pain was forgotten. There was the delicious contrast between the deep, burning scratches and bite mark and Jesse’s gentle lips and almost playful nibbling. Everything was warm where it wasn’t hot, Jesse’s skin against his, Jesse’s warm breath, and the swollen heat inside of his ass. When the pain was gone, the pleasure was overwhelming. The pressure had spread him as far as needed and now rubbed the right spots, sending shivers through Hanzo until the only thing existing in his world was Jesse’s cock. His vision blurred and his head was becoming light, his mind was in a daze. His own cock was twitching in Jesse’s hand who was holding on tightly but had stopped stroking.

“Ah…” Words were gone. He wouldn’t have been able to form them even if he remembered any of them, if he remembered the name he wanted to call out. He was so close and yet, there wasn’t an end. Hanzo blinked, the world dissolving in front of his eyes. Too much pain was disagreeable, but too much pleasure was worth. But it had been his choice and there was no escape. Jesse was locked in place and would stay there, forcing Hanzo to take wave after wave of pleasure rippling through his body.

He hardly noticed when he came. His seed spilled between them, adding to the stickiness of their sweat. He thought he only sighed, unable to hear his own scream shaking the wooden walls around them. And it didn’t stop. The pressure never faded and Jesse kept thrusting while the man beneath him went limp.

“I’m sorry. It’s over soon. Please, just a little longer…”

Hanzo opened his eyes and blinked.

He was sore, his chest and shoulder were hurting and his ass was burning with a warmth he couldn’t tell whether it was good or bad. The smell of blood and sex was lingering in the air, along with the scent of man and beast.

“Welcome back, foolish human.” Jesse’s face was taking shape above him but before he could retort, Jesse’s mouth sealed his lips. Hanzo wrapped his arm around the sweaty back. The fur was gone and the teeth teasing his tongue were less sharp. But it wasn’t over yet. Jesse’s cock was as hard as before and filled him without mercy.

Hanzo was scared, or so he thought, and as his own length was beginning to grow again under the friction of their bodies, he had to admit that it wasn’t fear after all he was feeling.

*

Jesse emerged from the brook nearby the hut. Water was dripping from his hair and if it weren’t for his fur-covered ears and the way he shook his head, nobody would have suspected him to be more than a man.

“You’re a beast in bed but I doubt the cold is healthy for you.” He laughed as he sat down on the bed of moss. Hanzo was resting next to him, leaning against a tree. The wolf skin was the only piece of cloth covering his wet hair and shivering back. He had just finished stuffing a pipe and was taking a long pull.

“I’m not taking health advice from a werewolf.” He scoffed, smoke leaving his nose and mouth.

“Shapeshifter,” Jesse corrected him. “I stopped being a werewolf a century ago. Did you only bring this fancy pipe?”

Hanzo tossed the small leather bag at him. Jesse opened it, growling with satisfaction when he found a box filled with cigars. He picked one, bit the end off, and lightened it with the match Hanzo offered him.

“I’ve never understood one thing, Hanzo,” he said between two pulls, thoughtfully watching the circles of smoke rising to the canopy of leaves above them. “You aren’t a gambler, it doesn’t take a wolf to smell this. Why these games? I could just kill these guys and bed you afterward. Without this show.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a hunter and it is difficult to find good men close to my skill. Poor fools.” He focused on the flavor of the tobacco. Strong, but not too bitter, a hint of sweetness that was still there after being denied.

“Then you’re a worse hunter than a gambler. And liar.” Jesse laughed, stretching his limbs. “Suit yourself. This is more fun than simply killing you. Say, how many more are you going to lure into the woods so I can kill them for you?”

Hanzo didn’t answer right away. He had been silly when he believed the wolf wouldn’t see through his story. He had been silly when he thought to serve the beast with his body was a worse punishment than death. Yes, his body was in pain, and the scratches and bites would leave scars this time. But he felt also at ease and relaxed and he couldn’t bring himself to shake it off. He would return soon enough to his state of despair, as soon as he left the forest behind.

“One more.” He sighed. One more, and the game would be over. He would decide then if he left his story behind with the wolf when it was time to leave the forsaken forest behind him for good. The thought made his heart jump with undeserved joy. One more, and his revenge would be complete. Everyone who had wronged him and pushed him to do the unforgivable would soon be mauled to death. His pact with the shapeshifter had been a fortunate opportunity but it would end as well with the last target on his list. The joy paled under the growing ache.

“I see. Well, it has been fun while it lasted, right?” Jesse’s grin changed into an understanding smile as he looked at Hanzo, who tried to avoid facing him. The sadness was tangible. Jesse put his arm around Hanzo’s shoulder. Hanzo sighed, leaning his head against Jesse’s chest.

“Well,” Jesse began, blowing out another cloud of smoke. “As I said, a century ago, before I became a shapeshifter, I was a werewolf. And many years before, I walked among humans as one of them.” He laughed, bit into the ear of the dead wolf covering Hanzo’s head, giving it a playful tug. “And whenever I feel like it, I’ll walk among humans again, pretending to be one of them. Of course, I’ll need a guide. I’m sure the world changed since I became a spirit of the forest.”

Hanzo snorted. It was tempting to succumb to the silence surrounding them. The night painted the surreal world black and trees shielded them from the lights of the sky. A winged hunter shrieked in triumph in the distance, where it felt safe enough to hunt without crossing the wolf’s path. What- or whoever this man had used to be, now he was once with a forest, a link tying the world to the spirit realm in a place where the planes almost touched. The forest wouldn’t change if he left, what would become of him nobody could foresee.

“You’d need a hood. To cover your ears… and good guides don’t come cheap.”

“Oh, I’m sure we can negotiate a fair price.”

 


End file.
